Southern Exposure Chapter 1 - 5
by larismythe
Summary: Southern Exposure is a spinoff of the Twilight series with new characters and a new story. There are some surprising twists along the way. If you liked Twilight, you won't be disappointed.


**Southern Exposure  
Chapters 1 thru 5**

By Lari Smythe

Copyright 2013 Lari Smythe

ISBN 9781301583607

**Chapter 1**

"Don't even think about it," I seethed through clenched teeth, unconsciously crushing the lip of the mahogany dresser drawer. The splintered shards of wood fell from my hands as I stepped back to face the open doorway. "You won't stop me this time—I swear."

Elizabeth, the maternal figure of our coven, stepped into view just outside my bedroom door. Her eyes narrowed, scrutinizing my demeanor carefully. Even with my youthful vampire strength, she was undeniably more powerful. Her face appeared calm—restrained, but the way she stood, one foot slightly behind the other, knees bent, arms loose and to the front, said otherwise. The plaster repairs from last year's _conversation_ still marred the wall around the door frame. I instinctively sank into a similar combative posture. Deep down I knew it was pointless, even if I could overpower her, the others would be close by.

"Izzy, is there nothing I can say?" Her soft southern drawl seemed pained.

"No."

"You realize this could jeopardize the entire family?"

"Seriously? You know I'm not part of this _family_."

"That's your choice."

"Right, blame it all on me. That's so typical."

"We've done everything possible to make the transition as easy—"

"Easy!" I huffed. "Are you kidding me?"

"I don't understand your attitude, you must realize our way is easier in a family setting." She stepped into the doorway, obviously to block my path.

If it was going to be like that, I was ready. Maybe I would have better luck this year. "Again with the family. Maybe I don't like your way. Maybe I prefer human blood over anemic animals."

The corner of Elizabeth's mouth twitched upward, triumphantly. "If that's the way you feel, I really can't let you go." She paused, and then added, "For your own sake, of course."

"Stop it! Just stop it. You know that's not what I meant. Besides, it's just school. It's no big deal."

Elizabeth's face turned serious again. "Surrounded by humans is a very big deal." Her voice was stern, but lacked the finality of last year's confrontation. Maybe I had a chance.

I choked back my anger and tried to reason with her. "Okay, I'll give you that, but I can do this. I know I can. I've practiced being around them, in stores, the mall; I _can_ control my thirst."

Elizabeth's gaze raked over me in sudden awareness. "You're not seriously going to wear—"

I made a slicing motion with my hand to cut her off. "The whole Emo Goth thing is perfect."

"Emo, Goth thing?"

"Of course you don't understand. It's not like you get out much."

Her lips tightened—I'd hit below the belt—wait, was she playing me, trying to provoke another confrontation? Don't go there I told myself. It's what she wants. I pressed my hands partially into the pockets of my tight black jeans. I flinched, unprepared for her touch, but her hands gently traced my arms and then drew my hands toward her. The flared sleeves of my purple, velvet top fanned open as her thumbs traced my glossy, black fingernails curiously and then brushed away the splintered shards of wood. She released my hands and stepped back.

"And the black lipstick?" She murmured.

"It's all part of the getup." I pulled my hair to the side, a nervous fidget, one she knew. She was going to win, just like last year. "I've seen—" my voice broke, "I've seen a girl who dresses this way—the other kids—they shy away from her."

"That seems like a valid consideration." Elizabeth eased back into the doorway. "Are you sure about this, Izzy?"

I wanted to tell her I was anything _but_ sure, yet at the same time, I knew if I showed the least bit of apprehension she would never let me go. At seventeen, school was the only thing I could think of that might help me regain the memory of my human life. If I was going to find and destroy the vampire that had done this to me, I needed to know who I had been. Nothing else had worked. The coven guarded my secret tenaciously. School had to be the key.

"I'll be fine, promise. Besides, you're going to have Tink keep an eye on me anyway, aren't you?"

There was a moment of mock surprise on Elizabeth's face. "If you'd like."

"You always do that," I grumbled.

"What?"

"You know, get me to say or do what you want."

"I don't know what you're talking—"

"I need to go." I surprised myself with the courage to say it straight out. "I don't want to attract attention by being late on the first day." Was I going to pull this off?

Elizabeth backed into the hallway as I stepped toward the door. I cautiously eased through the doorway. Benjamin, Elizabeth's mate and the father figure of the coven was standing by her side to the left of the door. Their eyes were intense, measuring, but neither interfered as I backed down the hall toward the staircase. I was halfway down the stairs when Benjamin spoke.

"Good luck, Izzy," he called softly.

"Your paperwork is on the table," Elizabeth added.

I grabbed the papers and escaped through the kitchen. Was this really happening? I always thought they suspected that this was about more than just education and their suspicions would be enough that they'd never let me go, yet here I was on my way to the bus stop. Could revenge be within my grasp?

"Hey, Izzy," a familiar voice called from the garage. "Got a minute?"

"Tink?" I rounded the corner and looked cautiously inside. Tink, short for Tolliver, was my brother of sorts. He was leaning against a large tarp covered object that I half expected to be some sort of trap.

"Looks like ya made it this far."

"This far?" The hair on my neck prickled as my senses kicked up another notch. I sunk into a more combative stance.

"Don't be like that. I was just kiddin'. Guess it's about time." He patted the tarp next to him that resounded with the metallic resonance of a timpani drum. "Figured, since you'd be in those tiny classrooms with 'em all day, you might not want to be crammed in a bus load of 'em."

"What did you do?"

Tink yanked back the tarp with a whoosh to reveal a beautiful, black car with an elegant, cursive chrome emblem on the rear quarter panel with the word, Malibu.

"Are you kidding me?"

Tink was beaming, his smile contagious if not for my apprehension. "You're going for what, a junior? Figure a junior should have a nice set of wheels. It's a 1966 Chevy in metallic black sapphire."

"Tink?" I cautioned, realizing this was probably another attempt to win my favor. I had originally thought I was created for Tink since he was the only single one in the coven. Although I was sure the Faulkners knew where I came from, I was just as sure none of them had actually changed me.

"Give it up, you know it's not like that," he replied, removing the piece of straw that he always kept in the corner of his mouth. "We're family and I didn't have anything to do with your change. None of us did. We would never do that."

"But you know who did," I accused.

Tink shook his head. "Can't we just be friends, maybe even brother and sister?" He stuck the piece of straw back in his mouth.

I momentarily let my guard down. "I never really blamed you. It's just—I hate this. I hate being a monster—I hate whoever—" I caught myself before I said too much.

"You're not a monster," Tink said before changing the subject. He opened the door and ushered me into the driver's seat. "It's a stick, like my pickup. You can drive one, right?"

I shrugged, not exactly sure what he meant.

"The gear shift is there between the seats and the clutch next to the brake." He mimicked the action of shifting gears. "Clutch—first gear, clutch—second gear, like that until you're in fourth." He chuckled. "You'll catch on. Go ahead, fire her up."

"Her? I don't think so." I turned the ignition key and my sleek, black beauty came to life with an animalistic roar. I gunned the engine, the torque rocking the car from side-to-side.

"Sounds sweet, huh?" Tink said, leaning in against the door.

"It feels angry—it suits me."

Tink's smile faded as he stepped back from the door. "Always with the anger," he accused.

"Then tell me who did this to me."

He turned away.

"Come on Tink, I know Elizabeth—"

He wheeled around, his eyes hard now. "You don't know anything."

"Then tell me."

Tink shook his head with finality, and then walked briskly to the garage door where he stopped and turned back. "Elizabeth wanted me to remind you to be careful. She said you should remember to breathe, blink your eyes and move your arms and legs now and then. You know, fidget. Heck, just act like them." He hesitated as if considering and then added, "Just be careful. I'd hate to see anything happen to you."

"You'll be close by, right?" I asked, but he was gone. I glanced down at the shifter and took hold of the polished aluminum T-grip engraved with the name Hurst. Remembering what Tink said, I pushed it into gear and eased out of the garage.

My ears tingled with the engine's deep, aggressive rumble as I ran up through the gears. The seat, the pedals, even the steering wheel vibrated with the intoxicating resonance. The car did suit me and the sheer power coaxed my anger to the surface.

"You!" I growled as I let my imagination take control. "I've been looking forward to this."

The vampire wheeled around, stunned. He was old by human years, and I could see at once he was terrified.

"That's right, your eternity ends right here, right now." My grip tightened on the steering wheel and the engine's vibration made it to my clenched teeth. "It's time to pay for what you did to me." I pounced, tearing into his marble flesh.

The tires squealed in defiance as the car suddenly veered to the left. I snapped the steering wheel to the right, easing off the gas as I straightened out. The speedometer read 80 MPH. I slowed to a stop at the intersection with Old National Pike. A flash of sunlight in the rearview mirror caught my attention as I turned west toward Boonsboro. I glanced down at my hands, but the exposed skin was well coated with the pale human tint I used to mask my skin from the sunlight. The tight, mask-like coating was uncomfortable, but necessary if there was any chance of exposure to direct sunlight. The sun didn't hurt, but my skin glistened in tiny facets that would draw immediate attention to the fact I wasn't human. The morning weather report called for the clouds to clear before the end of the school day.

Fear suddenly gripped me as I got my first glimpse of the school. What am I doing? This is crazy. Sure animal blood provided sustenance, but it was never completely satisfying—only masking the thirst for human blood. I studied my honey-golden eyes in the rearview mirror and knew that my thirst was as under control as it could be. I pulled into the student lot and parked near the back; but after turning off the engine, I just sat there, frozen. Was I really ready for this? I'd never experienced the same intense craving for human blood that the others talked about, but I wasn't immune to it either. It occurred to me that maybe that meant something. Had the vampire that changed me come from a similar coven that tried to abstain from human blood? Maybe I was just the unfortunate victim of falling off the wagon. Even so, it was a mistake he'd pay for. I picked up my papers and scanned over them. It would be just like Elizabeth to intentionally omit something, but to my relief everything seemed in order.

The tinny, irritating, high-pitched drone from the exhaust of what I'd heard the boys at the mall call a ricer, caught my attention as a car squealed around the corner headed toward the parking lot.

As I turned to look, I spotted Tink lingering near the football stadium. He wouldn't approve of my plan, but it was nice to know he was here to keep an eye on me—truthfully though, if it went badly, there would be little he could do. It occurred to me that maybe he was only there for damage control.

The ricer screeched to a stop in the adjacent parking spot. The oily smell of a worn out engine drifted over me in a blue cloud.

"What a sweet ride!" a distinctly male voice said.

I turned toward the car, and there they were, my first student contact, two boys, both tall, towering over their tiny car. They were wearing t-shirts, shorts and sandals. Their skin bronze from the summer sun. They were muscular, strong by human standards, probably athletes.

"Holy crap!" The closest boy groaned. "A freakin' Emo Cathy clone." He burst out laughing.

The boy on the driver's side leaned over the rust streaked roof to stare at me. "She looks like freakin' Tish from the Addam's Family." They slapped hands over the car.

Okay, this wasn't exactly the reaction I'd had in mind. I reached down and unlatched the door.

"Careful dude, she might bite!" The driver warned his friend.

An ironic smile lifted the corner of my lips, if they only knew. The boy closest to me retreated to the other side of the car in mock horror. I stepped out of my car and turned to close the door.

"Whoa!" I heard one of the boys mumble.

"So where'd you steal that from?" The driver asked.

The question took me by surprise. Tink wouldn't steal the car thinking I'd get caught, would he? Was that the trap I'd been expecting? That was ridiculous. I cocked my head to the side and turned toward them, confused.

"A freakin' sixty six, what a waste." Both boys shook their heads in apparent disbelief, turned away and leaned back against their car.

This was my chance to escape, so I quickly headed across the almost empty lot toward the school. Behind me I heard them laughing. One word said in jest caught my attention. "Vampire."

I paused at the front door, taking an anxious, but unnecessary breath. At least for the moment, the human scent was faint. I opened the door, glanced back at Tink, and then stepped inside the building. The door slowly swung closed behind me latching with the metallic clank of a cage. The muscles in my back tightened with apprehension, but I inched forward—one step after another until I was standing outside the front office.

"Good morning, hon," a friendly voice sang from behind me.

I spun around to face a rotund woman, likely in her mid-forties. She wore a flowered-print dress adorned with a paper, stick-on nametag that read, Mrs. Hall.

"Oh, my!" she exclaimed, her face turning crimson at her startled outburst. "You must be Izzy Faulkner." She continued in a placid tone.

I nodded.

Her smile seemed forced, but the lines in her face embraced it. "Well, come right this way, and we'll get you started."

I stepped to the side and then followed her into the outer office. She scooted behind the counter, set her purse and a small paper bag, presumably her lunch, behind the counter and sat down. I couldn't help notice how small her lunch seemed for such a plump woman and considered how she was probably enough to satisfy a vampire's thirst for weeks. She held out her hand.

"Oh right." I dug my papers out of my purse and handed them to her.

She took her time, carefully scanning over all my information and I began to feel uneasy. The metallic squeal of brakes drew my attention. A whiff of diesel exhaust drifted in through the open windows. It was soft at first, but then the air erupted with the sound of fifty conversations all going on at once. I tensed.

"It's just the first bus, hon." Mrs. Hall explained, apparently noticing my reaction.

"Right."

"Well, you have a wonderful school record. I'm sure you're going to enjoy yourself here. We have some excellent teachers. We do things a little differently than you're accustomed to. We use a block schedule, dividing the school year into two halves with four classes in each half. The administration feels the longer class periods enhance the learning experience. I see here that you're enrolled in Latin and the Art Gifted and Talented program in the morning. Then after lunch, History and Software Apps." She stared at me for a moment, her eyes perhaps compassionate. "Yes," she finally said, "you'll do just fine." She grabbed two papers off her desk and unexpectedly stood.

I instinctively recoiled.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"I'm just a little jumpy, first day and all." Behind me, the outer door opened and the hallway beyond the glass wall filled with the muffled sound of students.

"Let's get you started then." Mrs. Hall handed me my schedule and then meticulously outlined each of my classes in red marker on a copy of the school floor plan. "Well, that's everything. Have any questions?"

I shook my head.

"I'm sure you'll do just fine. It's a small school compared to what you're used to."

Right, what I was used to. I wasn't used to anything human, least of all a school full of them. Doubt began to erode my determination until it occurred to me that I'd been denied this human opportunity. Anger crept back in, heightening my senses, my reflexes—that was bad. I tried to calm myself by clenching, then relaxing my fists. I glanced up into Mrs. Hall's concerned face.

"Don't worry about the other students. They'll come around. They're a nice bunch for the most part."

It was the 'for the most part' I was worried about. I forced a smile.

"Have you met Cathy?"

"No." I puzzled.

"Well, maybe you two will hit it off. Make sure you get your teachers to sign your schedule, and bring it back to me at the end of the day." We both stood motionless for a moment. "Run along, hon. You don't want to be late."

"Thanks." I glanced down at my schedule and compared it to the floor plan. My first class was Advisory, near the far end of the west hallway. I turned toward the door; and there beyond the glass, the hall was bustling with activity. I stepped toward the door and was immediately surprised by the lack of scent. Then I realized the students were on the other side of the glass, parading past like an endless school of guppies in an aquarium. I glanced back toward Mrs. Hall and her frown immediately turned into a forced smile.

"Go on, hon. They won't bite."

My smile was sincere, but not for the reason she thought. I turned toward the door again and this time caught a glimpse of black in the sea of summer colors. By the time I reached for the door knob, she was standing opposite me. Again I glanced back.

Mrs. Hall silently mouthed the word "Cathy".

I looked back at Cathy. It was like looking in a mirror. Oh sure, she was shorter and a little heavier, but she was wearing the same black jeans and deep purple, velour top.

Okay, under normal circumstances this would be a total fashion nightmare, requiring one of us to immediately return home and change or we'd both be humiliated for the rest of the school year. But for me, it was validation. I'd done my homework, albeit maybe a little too well. I unconsciously reached up and raked my fingers through my hair and Cathy did the same. Okay, that was creepy.

I turned the knob and cautiously pulled the door open, filling the room with the sound of chaos. Cathy didn't move. Suddenly I remembered what Tink had said and realized I wasn't blinking or breathing. I took a guarded, shallow breath and while the human scent was strong, it was muddled—nothing to isolate any one scent from another. I decided that was a good thing and tried to keep from instinctively isolating the most satisfying prey. Right—my eyes—I batted my long lashes.

"Don't even think about it creep," one of the boys said in passing.

"Leave her alone," Cathy said, glaring over her shoulder.

"Jesus, there's two of them!" Another boy groaned. "What are we, an Emo magnet school?" He continued down the hall.

Cathy turned back to face me, but continued to block the doorway.

"You must be Cathy," I offered.

She nodded.

"I'm Izzy." My name seemed to amuse her. "Who do you have for Advisory?"

Cathy snatched my schedule out of my hand and in doing so, her sleeve rode up. There were several scars, and a few more recent cuts that weren't completely healed. I stopped breathing. She shoved my schedule back in my hands. "I'm across the hall with Mr. Mathews." Her voice was flat, measured, void of any emotion.

I risked a controlled breath so I could speak. "Mind if I walk with you?"

She nodded, and then turned and started down the hall. I stepped into the hallway and turned to close the door—Mrs. Hall was staring, an empathetic sadness in her eyes—I closed the door and caught up with Cathy.

We walked silently through the halls. As I'd hoped, the other kids gave us a wide berth and, for the most part, ignored us except for the occasional sarcastic remark. As we approached the end of the hall, Cathy suddenly stopped and pointed me to her left.

"That my class?" I glanced down at my floor plan.

Without a word, Cathy turned and went into the classroom to her immediate right.

There weren't as many kids at this end of the hall so I resumed a normal human breathing rate. Suddenly the bell rang—I cringed—the volume deafening to my sensitive ears. Okay, this is it. I stepped into my Advisory class.

The room was segregated; the boys gathered at the back of the classroom and the girls were near the windows at the front. To my left, a boy and girl were leaning up against the wall, making out.

"Excuse me, dear," a definitely authoritative female voice said from behind me.

"Sorry." I sidestepped in the direction of her nudge—she could never move me of her own accord.

"Mr. Johnson, Miss Applegate, that'll be quite enough of that," she said as she stepped towards the teacher's desk.

Everyone moved in unison toward their seats and my hope of sitting in the back of the class vanished—so much for inconspicuous. The only seat remaining was the one in front of me, right inside the doorway. Maybe that wasn't such a bad idea.

The teacher was dressed in a plain red top with tan slacks and, like Mrs. Hall, could have quenched the thirst of even the most ravenous vampire—I had to stop thinking like that.

"Do you intend to join us?" the teacher questioned with an edge of annoyance.

I glanced up and realized she was speaking to me. "Sorry." I slid into the seat in front of me amid a flurry of giggles from the class.

"Alright class, for the sake of our new student, I'm Mrs. Burns. Advisory isn't playtime," she scowled at the boys in the back, "so I won't put up with any tom foolery." She straightened up, grasped the hem of her blouse and snapped it taught. "We're here to discover who you really are."

"Excellent," I let slip.

Mrs. Burns' harsh glance seemed to have an edge of pleasant surprise. "Now then class, I'm going to call roll. If you prefer a nickname, let me know."

I'd hoped to be in the back so I could see who was who as she called roll. I didn't want to turn around—I could already feel the prying eyes examining me—so I did the best I could to memorize where each response came from. It wouldn't be a problem to connect name and face later.

"Izzy Faulkner." Mrs. Burns looked at me over her frameless reading glasses. "Is Izzy a nickname?"

"My name." I replied. It was really the only name I had, just Izzy. Elizabeth added Faulkner—the surname of the coven—since the school papers required a last name. Four seats back a boy grunted.

Mrs. Burns' attention was immediately drawn to him. "Do we have a problem, Mr. Johnson?"

"No, Mrs. Burns," was his mechanical response.

"Let's refrain from quick judgments." She continued. "I believe you owe Miss Faulkner an apology."

"Sorry Izzzzzzy." He replied hanging on to the 'Z' longer than necessary.

I was the only one that could hear the faint snickers from the other students.

"Alright class," Mrs. Burns said, returning her attention to the rest of the class, "we're going to meet once a week this year, for just half an hour, so I won't be able to spend a lot of individual time with you in class. Remember though, I'm always available after school." She went back to her desk, grabbed a stack of papers and started handing them to the first person in each row.

I wasn't exactly sure what to do with them, but followed the others and handed them back. The girl behind me, Lisa Meyers by my recollection, was blonde with entirely too much makeup that ended in a harsh orange line at her jaw line. Her mascara looked like it had been applied with a paintbrush. She sneered as I turned to hand her the stack of papers, yanking them out of my hand with an annoyed exhale that puffed her bangs. I turned back towards the front and hid my face behind the handout.

As Mrs. Burns went over the paper, I re-evaluated. It seemed as long as the human scent remained nondescript, a muddled, confused mixture of male, female and individual scents, I was completely able to control myself. "But that's not right."

"Excuse me?" Mrs. Burns snapped.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt." Whoops, didn't mean to do that. Seriously though, it wasn't right. The human scent was supposed to build, one on the other until it was irresistible. The whole concern over me starting school was based on the fact that I would be in close contact with so many humans, that it would be impossible to control my thirst. The bell jolted me back to reality.

**Chapter 2**

I was the first one out of the class since my desk was right next to the door. Once in the hallway, I quickly slid to the side, out of everyone's way. Eric Johnson and Lisa Meyers shot me an evil glare as they led the charge out of the room. At this end of the hall, there weren't many students; but toward the center of the school, the hallway was crowded. I glanced down at the map Mrs. Hall had detailed and was relieved to see Latin was just a few doors up. I hadn't seen Cathy, but assumed I missed her in the mass exodus. I pushed off the wall and followed the tail end of the crowd until I was standing in front of my next class. A pale, sandy-haired girl slipped past me without looking up and went into the room. I followed.

It was a typical classroom, no different than the last, but there were very few students—eight to be exact. The pale girl I'd followed sat down next to two other girls in the front, closest to the teacher's desk. I decided to stay with my original plan and retreated to a seat in the back. Three windows along the left side of the room, blinds partially closed, provided the only illumination to the dingy room. A few more students slipped quietly into class, also sitting near the front, and then the lights suddenly flicked on.

"Good morning class," an animated voice proclaimed.

"Good morning Miss Berkshire," the class replied in unison.

Miss Berkshire looked to be in her mid-to-late fifties, nondescript graying hair pulled back in a loose bun and, most noticeably, vibrant red lipstick. She crossed the front of the room and went directly to the teacher's desk to set her things down. From behind a worn, leather portfolio with a single piece of paper protruding from the top, she scanned the room. Her sparkling blue eyes finally came to rest on me.

"You must be Izzy Faulkner," she said, cocking her head to the side. "Why don't you come join us?"

"I'd like to be in the back of the class if that's alright."

Miss Berkshire set her portfolio down and stepped out from behind the desk. "I'm afraid it's just a small class. Please." She patted the back of a chair in the second row. "Technically this is the back of the class."

I grabbed my stuff and walked slowly up the row toward the chair where she stood. She backed away as I approached, seeming to detect my apprehension. What surprised me the most was the lack of interest from the rest of the class. A couple of the girls glanced over their shoulders, but their expressions held only mild curiosity. As I sat down, the girl at the desk in front of me—the girl I'd followed into class—turned.

"I'm Mary."

"Izzy." I whispered.

"Cool." Mary turned back toward the front of the class.

"Well class," Miss Berkshire started, "I'm sure I speak for the entire class when I say we're so glad to have you join us, Izzy. I'm afraid over the years things have gotten a bit routine, perhaps some new blood will spice things up a bit this year."

If she only knew how blood would spice things up.

"Would you like to tell us a little about yourself?"

I squirmed in my seat.

"Well, I suppose I dropped that on you rather unexpectedly, perhaps later."

The rest of the class was, well routine. Miss Berkshire handed out books and a syllabus that included everything; homework, projects, even quiz and test dates. As class continued, I relaxed and started to think about the real reason I was here. But try as I might, I couldn't find anything that seemed even remotely familiar. I was getting frustrated when I recognized my name.

"Izzy, would you like to share a little about yourself before class ends?"

"Well, I'm afraid there isn't much to tell."

Mary turned to face me. "You're not from around here. There has to be something." Said in a different tone, her words could have sounded adversarial, but her voice held no malice, only curiosity.

"To tell you the truth, I have no memory beyond five years ago." That got everyone's attention, not exactly what I'd intended. They all turned to look at me.

"How interesting," Miss Berkshire noted.

"I remember school—well the things I learned, but really not much more than that. I have no idea where I lived before Boonsboro." There was an uncomfortable silence as no one—including me—knew what to say after I dropped that little gem. The bell saved the day.

"Remember to go over Chapter One for tomorrow." Miss Berkshire's cheery voice was a perfect way to end class. I was going to like Latin.

The hall was brimming with kids, so I stopped pretending to breathe before leaving the classroom. Fidgeting with my school floor plan, I oriented the page to the hall.

"What's your next class?"

I looked up and Mary was staring over my shoulder. I edged away from her closeness.

"Sorry, I just thought you might need help finding your way."

I risked a shallow breath so I could speak. "Um, sure. I have Art next."

She pointed past me, toward the chaos in the center of the school. "It's down this way, then to the right, just before you get to the shop."

"Watch it geek!" A boy shouted as a group of boys ran past. He bumped Mary, almost knocking her into me. I stepped to the right and Mary caught herself against the wall. "Sorry," she apologized. Her translucent skin flushed to my chagrin. She slowly slid her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "Mind if I walk with you?"

I nodded and we started up the hall. When we reached the intersection, Cathy emerged from the crowd.

"Hey Mary," Cathy said, "I see you met Izzy. Where you headed?"

"Chemistry, Izzy's got Art."

"I just came from Chemistry. I'll take her from here."

"See you guys." Mary headed off down the hall to the left.

"You in GT?" Cathy asked.

I glanced down at my schedule and then nodded.

"Same here." She smiled. "It's this way."

I followed Cathy down the hall to the right. We entered the Art room just as the bell rang. I'm not really sure if it was us or the bell, but everyone in the room turned and stared. We did make quite a pair. Cathy seemed to be looking for someone, but my gaze drifted away from the incredulous stares.

"Hi, Mrs. Snyder," Cathy said with a ring in her voice I hadn't heard before.

"Good morning."

"Can we sit together?" Cathy's hand flashed into my view of the floor as she motioned toward me.

"That's fine. Why don't you take the table near the window?"

"Perfect."

Cathy took the stool closest to the window. I set my Latin book on the corner of our table and looked up for the first time. There were the same curious eyes as in the hallway, mostly directed toward me. No one made eye contact, except for the redheaded boy next to me, and he was just plain staring.

"Hop off," Cathy ordered, leaning forward to glare at him.

"Freakin' d'bag," he grunted in response.

Cathy eased back onto her stool.

"Hop off?" I questioned. The phrase seemed totally out of place, but the boy seemed to understand and as far as what he said, I was clueless.

"Yeah," Cathy whispered, "you know, stop obsessing."

"Right." I replied, trying to sound as though I understood. "And freakin' d'bag?"

"Just vulgar boy lingo. Don't pay any attention."

Mrs. Snyder introduced me at the start of class, but didn't make a fuss. It turned out Cathy and I were the only two in GT, the rest of the class was in Art I or Art II. Cathy went up front to help hold some pictures as Mrs. Snyder explained the concept of composition. Mrs. Snyder was blonde, most of her hair pulled back in a shoulder-length pony tail, the strays flying around her willowy face. She was young, probably not much older than my combined years. Of course, I still looked the same age as the day I died—seventeen—one of the few things I knew about myself.

The eight student tables were spread out in a semicircle around a slightly raised area in the front of the room. Mrs. Snyder's desk was on the side closest to the door. Although there was nothing specific, the Art room had a somewhat familiar feel, maybe I'd been in Art classes before. Cathy returned to her seat next to me, and Mrs. Snyder pointed out a still life on the raised platform that I hadn't noticed. It was a bit disconcerting because my heightened, vampire senses usually precluded any such surprises. Mrs. Snyder handed each of us a sheet of eighteen by twenty-four inch paper and instructed us to draw what we saw. At the top of our table we had white, black and brown Conte Crayons.

I sat and stared at the black crayon in my hand, not really knowing where to start. Cathy was already busy at work.

"Don't be nervous," Cathy said, "she's not judgmental."

"Draw what we see?" I asked, glancing at Cathy's paper. She had the large Blue Doulton basin sketched out.

"Sure, you can do part or the whole thing, whatever you want."

I looked back at the still life, an assortment of home-goods placed on a cluster of draped chairs. I closed my eyes for a moment—concentrating—and then began outlining the draped chairs. The more I drew, the less often I looked up at the still life; but when I eased back from the table to see how I'd done, my outline only loosely resembled the still life. There was a strange familiarity with the outline that I couldn't explain. I continued drawing. My motions became almost frantic as I altered the soft pleats of the drape into jagged crevices. The silhouette of the bowl became the outline of a gentler peak, closer, in the foreground. I exchanged the black crayon for a white and began enhancing the light areas. Once the highlights were in, I began blending the edges with my pinky finger. Where is this? I asked myself. Why does it look so familiar? I leaned back to stare at the snow covered mountain peaks I'd drawn.

"Very original," Mrs. Snyder said from behind me. She waved her hand through the air in the general shape of my drawing. "I can see the outline of the still life. Is this a place you know well, a family vacation spot perhaps?"

"I'm not sure. Sorry if it's not what you expected."

"I said 'draw what you see', this is obviously what you see. You have a commanding stroke, strong yet vulnerable. Very nice."

When Mrs. Snyder moved to the next table, Cathy leaned over. "You really don't know where that is?"

"No, why?"

"It just seemed the way you were working you knew exactly what you were drawing."

I looked over at Cathy's work and she'd done a flawless rendition of the porcelain basin. "Yours is incredibly realistic."

She leaned back to examine her work. "I guess. If I don't draw realistic it comes out dark. Mrs. Snyder doesn't like it when I draw dark all the time. Figured I'd try to start the year off on a bright note, know what I mean?"

"I do."

"Maybe Canada or the Alps."

"What?" I puzzled.

"Your mountains."

I shrugged, unsure as Cathy returned to her drawing. I continued to touch up little areas, but it was gone—the familiarity—as if the drawing were no more than a blanket draped over four chairs. I'd started school with hopes of finding some kind of connection—a link—to my human past, but mountains weren't what I'd expected. Maybe it was nothing.

"Alright class," Mrs. Snyder started, "time to cleanup, class will be over shortly. Don't forget to put your name in the bottom right-hand corner of your work."

The redhead next to me bolted from his chair, starting a mad dash for the sinks. Cathy and I hung back until most of the class had washed their hands and returned to their seats. As we approached the sinks, I suddenly remembered the cuts on Cathy's wrists. If they got wet and oozed blood, it could be a problem. I stopped breathing.

"Class," Mrs. Snyder said from behind us, "I'd like you to take a look at what Cathy drew."

Cathy and I both glanced over our shoulders. Mrs. Snyder was holding up Cathy's drawing.

"As you can see, Cathy's done a very realistic rendering of the subject." She set Cathy's drawing back on the table and then lifted mine. She hesitated for a moment, staring at the drawing, and then addressed the redhead boy. "I'll see you after class, Andy."

Andy shrugged indifferently.

"Well, as you can see," Mrs. Snyder continued, turning my drawing toward the class. "Izzy's done a more imaginative interpretation."

"Yeah," Andy mocked, "rocks." Some of the class snickered. "You see any rocks? I don't think so."

"That's enough, Andy."

"Don't mind them," Cathy said, turning back toward the sink. "They're just in Art so they can get a passing grade." She reached for the running water, but hesitated. Instead of plunging her hands into the stream of water like I feared, she pulled a paper towel from the dispenser, wet it and wiped her hands. I did the same, being careful not to rub through the thin painted membrane that covered my skin. The bell rang as we started back toward our table.

The veins on Mrs. Snyder's forehead bulged as she quietly, but sternly chastised Andy. He appeared apathetic. "…I won't put up with that kind of behavior this year, do you understand?"

"Whatever." Andy replied.

"I mean it. If you want to be part of this class, there will be no more ridiculing your classmates."

"Alright already." Andy grabbed his stuff and headed for the door.

Mrs. Snyder turned to Cathy and I. "I'm so sorry about your artwork."

I glanced down at my picture. In the lower right hand corner, Andy had drawn in red marker, blood dripping from my name into a pool at the bottom of the page.

"Some of these boys can be so immature." Mrs. Snyder continued.

"That was meant for me, wasn't it?" Cathy gasped.

"No, no, Andy said he was just 'initiating' the new girl."

"But last year—"

"Would you two bring your portfolios in tomorrow?" Mrs. Snyder said, changing the subject. "I'd like to see some of your previous work Izzy, so I can get a feel for how I can help; and Cathy, I'd like to see what you did over the summer."

Portfolio? I didn't have a portfolio, I didn't even have any art supplies.

"Well, you girls run along. You don't want to be late for lunch. The cafeteria can get awfully crowded."

"See you after lunch," Cathy replied.

I grabbed my Latin book and followed Cathy to the door.

"Don't worry about lunch being crowded. There's a small table where I always eat and nobody sits there. Well, Mary once in a while, but nobody else. Did you bring a lunch or are you buying?"

"I don't eat," I said without thinking.

Cathy smiled wryly. "As weird as that sounds, I believe you."

I tried changing the subject. "Does it really get as crowded as Mrs. Snyder said?"

"I just get an apple and milk. They'll leave us alone—we're too 'creepy'." She made little quote marks in the air.

We were getting close to the cafeteria and the greasy smell of pizza, burgers and fries was already strong. I stopped as Cathy pulled open the double doors and the heavy human scent was oppressive.

"You okay?" Cathy asked, glancing back at me.

Beyond her, the cafeteria was brimming with students. For the moment, the human scent was masked by the food, but I couldn't imagine myself in that room. Cathy's expression slowly changed from surprise to awareness, although I wasn't sure what she was thinking. It was then I realized I was shaking my head from side-to-side.

"Ahhhh," I groaned, "I left my Latin book in the Art room."

Cathy's eyes momentarily glanced down at the book under my arm. "I aid next period. I could get it for you," she offered.

A group of boys suddenly got up from one of the closer tables and started for the doors. I stepped back as the boys veered to the door opposite Cathy. The last boy through the doorway, a large muscular boy—one I recognized from the parking lot—raised his arms over his head and made an animated, ghostly noise at her. When she cringed away from him, he pressed toward her. His aggressiveness triggered a burning sensation in the back of my throat—that was bad.

"So you have a friend this year," the boy scowled at her.

Cathy cowered, slipping off the open door toward the wall. The boy caught the door and slammed it back against the wall.

"Did you see that?" He asked, turning toward his friends. "She tried to hit me with the door."

Cathy was beet red, her eyes welled up with tears, that aggravated the burn in my throat even more. I stood frozen, afraid to move, afraid the slightest muscle twitch might trigger an attack. The throb of his blood pulsing through his veins was already ringing in my ears. The boy leaned his head forward until it almost rested against Cathy's.

My voice came out in a growl, "Leave her alone." I took a step forward.  
The boy looked up surprised, but obviously amused. "You kidin' me?" He said to his friends, before turning back to me. "What?"

Cathy used the distraction to slip away; as she did I stepped back.

"Where do you think you're going?" He leaned forward, staring into my eyes, unprepared for what would happen. The muscles in his face tensed with uncertainty as I met his gaze and he froze in place. After a moment, he suddenly burst out laughing and turned toward his friends. "Whoa dudes, this is really a weird one."

I glanced at Cathy. She had wiped her eyes with her arm and left a smear of blood from her wrist across her cheek. My hands began to tremble.  
"Well?" The boy droned, turning back to me, but not meeting my gaze.

I had no breath and could not risk inhaling. Primal instinct pushed my body into an attack posture, one foot sliding back behind the other. My hands balled into fists. It was then I noticed the burn from my throat had swelled to engulf my mouth and sinuses. I was losing control. The boy, face now calm, placid, slowly tilted his head to the right, surrendering his neck to me—I was unconsciously doing that, a vampire thing, he was mine. My mouth filled with saliva as I traced my sharp teeth with my tongue. I swallowed hard.

Suddenly the door on the far side of the hall slammed open. I broke off, glancing over at the distraction, it was Tink. That was all I needed to regain control, but as I rose to an erect posture and backed away, the largest boy in the group pushed forward.

"Cut the crap freak!"

If Tink had not broken my concentration, the boy wouldn't have taken another step; but as it was, I controlled the urge to strike.

"What is it with you Emos? Who do you think you're messin' with anyway?" Behind him, his friends were pushing, laughing at the staggering boy I'd released.

I looked up at my new adversary, his eyes almost as intense as mine. There was a slight tug and I looked down to see him pull my Latin book out from under my arm and drop it to the floor. Tink took a step toward us, but I waved him off. I slowly stooped down and gathered up the book and papers that spilled out. When I looked up, the boy had turned toward his friends.

"That's what I'm talkin' about, bow to the master."

The group's laughter was cut short when as I stood, I pierced the Styrofoam cup he was holding with my fingernail, sending a stream of soda down his leg. The boy dropped the cup and wheeled around.

"You're dead!" He shouted, his face red with rage.

"Break it up, break it up," a commanding voice boomed from behind the crowd that now filled the doorway.

The students peeled back and a large, muscular black man stepped forward. Despite his muscular physique, he seemed gentle, like Tink.

The boy in front of me immediately stepped back, his rage completely masked. "Hey Coach, the freak dropped her soda. Just tryin' to help."

"Looks like we're going to need a mop," Coach said. He glanced at me. "You okay?"

I nodded and backed away.

"The closet's right down the hall. Derrick, you're with me."

Derrick, the boy in front of me, started after the coach, but turned back. "This isn't over, freak," he whispered through clenched teeth. "I'm on it, Coach!" He jogged down the hall to catch up with him.

The other boys, his friends, were acting as though they were trying to direct students around the mess. It was all very strange; the change I mean. I strayed back to the wall with Cathy. She'd wiped the blood off her cheek. Tink was gone, somehow slipping away when he was no longer needed. I had to admit, Elizabeth was right to send him. If he hadn't been here… I shuddered at what would have happened.

"You okay?" Cathy whispered.

"Sure. You?"

"I don't understand what happened. They usually leave me alone."

"They?" I pondered.

"Derrick and his crew."

I could sense the history between them in her voice. "They seem, well, awfully big to pick on you."

"Football players, they did it to show off freshman year, but they've left me alone since. I don't know what changed, unless..." She looked up, Derrick and his crew was coming back with the mop. "There's nothing to worry about as long as the coach is with them. You hungry? I'm famished."

This completely surprised me. How, after what just happened, could she just go eat?

She must have read the confusion in my face. "It's why they leave me alone—well usually. I just don't quit. See, if you quit, they win. You know the table I told you about?"

I nodded.

"Well, it took almost the entire freshman year to get it, and then last year they tried to chase me off again, but I just wouldn't leave."

"I see." I really didn't understand. I thought the whole purpose of the Emo thing was so people would leave you alone.

"It's not what you think. It's just what you have to do to be left alone." She pushed off from the wall. "Ready?"

"I don't think—"

"Right, I forgot you don't eat." She winked. "What do you have last period?"

I fumbled with my papers and found my schedule. "History, then Software Apps."

She smiled. "Ah, the coach. That ought to be interesting."

"It says Mr. Singleton."

"That's Coach. Well, maybe I'll see you after school. See ya, and thanks."

"Sure." I called after her.

I was surprised that I seemed to have all my control back, but I definitely wasn't going into the cafeteria. In front of me, Derrick was directing one of the smaller boys in the group to mop the floor, acting very much in charge. Every now and then, he'd shoot a glance my way. It was obvious I needed to move. My next breath stopped me in my tracks. An intense, overpowering human scent reignited my instincts. I gasped, totally the wrong thing to do since it only served to magnify the staggering aroma. That brought another glare from Derrick. I moved further down the hall.

While the aroma was definitely human, it heralded above all the others that still lingered in the muddled, non-descript background. I couldn't find the words to describe it, but I had a different, odd reaction to it. Sure, it brought the burning thirst to my throat, but there was more. Deep down in my gut, my stomach knotted up in a painful cramp. Despite the pain, I was mysteriously drawn toward the origin, the cafeteria. Without totally realizing what I was doing, I began slinking toward the cafeteria. Inside I fought against the intense urge to feed on what could only be the sweetest blood in the entire universe. Another cramp nearly doubled me over.

"You spew and you clean it up," Derrick's voice, now just a hollow echo, complained.

I staggered to a stop. The lure was stronger, almost overpowering. There was nothing but the scent now, everything else had faded into the blurred background. I unconsciously licked my lips. Through the daze, a strong pronounced set of footsteps were crossing the cafeteria toward the doors—toward me. I shook myself violently, trying to regain my composure and then skirted around Derrick and the others headed for the first door I saw—the ladies room.

**Chapter 3**

I had ceased any kind of breathing even before entering the ladies room, but it wasn't enough, so I rinsed my mouth out with water desperately trying to dilute the gripping aroma. It wasn't long before two girls came in. They looked at me strangely as if they didn't want whatever it was I had. I slid back into the isolation of one of the stalls.

"She must have eaten the tuna salad," one of the girls whispered. "Aren't you glad you listened to me?"

"Should we tell one of the teachers?"

"Nah, she'll be okay."

"Was that Cathy? She looked different than I remember."

"With that hair, are you kidding? She's some new girl."

"I haven't seen her around town, you?"

"No, guess she must have just moved in."

"Lucky her, right? Can you believe the hair?" Their voices faded toward the door and disappeared.

Rinsing my mouth out and the fact I wasn't breathing began to help. The intoxicating scent was fading. I was relieved and sad at the same time, which made no sense at all.

What's wrong with my hair? I thought. Who was I kidding, I hated it. It was so thick that even in a ponytail it stood out larger than my head. I'd cut it recently, but it grew back within days—a vampire thing, something to do with how you looked when you died. Still, they didn't have to be cruel. That had happened before, I puzzled, two girls, it was cold, my hair was in a ponytail and they were laughing, teasing, saying it looked like I had two heads. The door groaned, as someone else came into the bathroom. The memory was gone.

A few other girls came and went before I felt I could venture out of my porcelain refuge. I had History next and it was in the opposite direction of the cafeteria. If I could just make it around the corner in the hall, I should be far enough away from whomever it was that I could cope. I slowly opened the stall door, which naturally made a loud, ghostly squeal, and peeked out into the empty room. As I slipped out of the stall, the scent came blasting through the door vent like it had been waiting to pounce. I staggered back into the tiny stall.

By the time I regained any semblance of composure the bell rang. It was obvious I was in no condition to venture out into the sea of humanity. History would have to wait until tomorrow. The question, was I done for the day? I decided to try and wait it out. Besides, going home early would play into Elizabeth's notion that school was impossible. It seemed that after half an hour or so, there were no lingering effects. Still, what was it? What manner of human had that kind of magnetism? I wondered if other vampires would experience the same intense thirst. Was this human destined to be a victim? Perhaps I was just overwhelmed at the time. That must be it I decided. After all, I'd never had the kind of difficulty around humans the others described. It was all just too much. I overloaded. Still, there was something about this particular scent I couldn't escape. Even now, when the alluring aroma had completely faded, it remained in me, all through my body, a scent against which all others would now be compared. I shuddered at the thought of paltry deer blood.

The bell rang, making History, well, history. I cautiously ventured out into the hall—not bad. I was surprised to find that the muddled human scent that I'd been resisting the entire day was completely gone; but in it's place, the ever so faint new aroma. The school's ventilating system had dispersed it, but it wasn't difficult for me to tell the individual had passed this way. Unfortunately, it looked like my next class was in the same direction. It was much more difficult to ignore the single scent than it had been to deal with the muddled mass, but I had to try. I could always retreat back into the bathroom, if necessary. According to my floor plan, I needed to go through the crowded center of the school to the far end of the opposite hall, near the gym. I guess it made perfect sense that if Mr. Singleton was the coach, then his classroom would be near the gym. I put my head down, refrained from breathing and headed for Software Apps.

Once I entered the classroom, I quickly claimed a desk near the back of the room and settled down behind the computer monitor. There were a lot of different monitors, in various sizes, but they were all large enough to conceal the students behind them. I seemed to be sitting behind one of the larger ones.  
"Hey, you," a sharp voice said, "you're in my seat."

One of Derrick's crew, I recognized from the hallway, was leering at me.

"No, your stuff wasn't here," I replied, remembering what Cathy had said about holding your ground.

"Dude," a boy yelled from one row up, "I saved you a spot up here."

The boy smiled. "You're still so dead." He grunted and went to join his friend.

He had no idea.

Mr. Singleton rolled his chair into the room from an adjacent office, a phone tucked between his ear and shoulder. "We'll get started in a minute. Don't touch anything. We have some new rules this year." He rolled back into the office. It was quiet for a moment, and then everyone started whispering. It sounded like the two boys in front of me were talking about Cathy.

"No way that's Cathy. I heard she just got out of the hospital."

"Again?" The other boy questioned.

"Yeah, she spent most of the summer in the psych ward. We'd only been out of school for like a week when her old lady had to call 911."

"Why?"

"Cut herself again."

"That's freakin' gross."

"So, if she's not Cathy, then who is she?"

"I don't know. Who cares anyway? She's just another freakin' Emo."

"I guess." The boy leaned closer to his friend and lowered his voice even more. "Still, she's kind of hot, don't you think?"

"You kiddin' me? You askin' her out?"

"No," the boy recoiled, "just sayin'."

"Sorry about the delay class, problems scheduling our first scrimmage. I'm Mr. Singleton, but around here they call me Coach."

"We already know that, Coach." A girl up front complained.

"I just though I'd put that out there for our new student. Izzy, would you stand up, please. Everyone, this is Izzy Faulkner."

Heads emerged from behind the computer monitors, their necks straining to quench their curiosity before sinking back out of sight. The class was about a fifty-fifty split, girls and boys, I'd managed to put myself with the boys. The girls were primarily up front. My whole back of the class thing just wasn't working out.

"Thank you Izzy, you may be seated. Alright, here's the way this is going to work this year…"

As Coach continued, I stared down at the keyboard. This was familiar. I held my hands out and placed my fingers over the home keys. Yes, I'd used a computer before. The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog, I remembered, making the motions with my fingers, but the keyboard lacked a time or place. It was just a random object linked to nothing. Mr. Singleton gave us a sheet of computer-oriented questions to answer so he could get a feel for our familiarity with the lingo. I knew all the answers, which surprised me. The bell suddenly rang.

"Okay class, that's it for today. Remember the first scrimmage game is this Saturday and you get extra credit for coming to the games. See you tomorrow."

Like in all my other classes—except Latin—there was a mad scramble for the door. I'd made it through the first day, with the exception of History. I figured that was key. The first day had to be the most difficult. I'd had no epiphany, but there were a few things, the keyboard and the mountains. They seemed totally unrelated, inconsequential, but maybe they were something to build on. I looked up as the boy whom claimed I stole his seat passed, leering at me, but I didn't care. Besides, according to Cathy, they'd leave me alone now. Yes, all-in-all it was a successful day.

Mrs. Hall looked up as I stepped into the front office. "Well, look at you, any problems?"

"I missed History."

"Oh, that Mrs. Warner will mark you with an unexcused absence for sure. What happened?"

I thought back to the girls in the bathroom. "I felt sick to my stomach. I think it was the tuna salad."

"Oh dear, you shouldn't eat the tuna until after Halloween. I'll straighten things out with Mrs. Warner. I'm sure she'll understand."

"Thanks."

"Did you have any classes with Cathy?"

"Art, we sit at the same table."

Her smile seemed to go beyond mere casual interest. "That's nice. I hope you two can be friends." She turned back to her computer screen. "Have a nice evening, hon."

When I got to the door, I realized I hadn't gotten my schedule signed. "Um, Mrs. Hall?"

"Yes."

I held up my schedule.

"Don't worry about it. It was just a formality any who."

I walked to the front door with the word 'formality' rattling around in my head. Formality, a rule—surely what she meant, a custom or ritual, a ceremony—ceremony, that was it, I remembered some kind of ceremony. "Formal." I almost walked into the door.

"Hey."

"Oh, hi Cathy, I didn't see you."

"Yeah, like you were in a trance or something. What did you mean by formal?"

"Oh nothing, just something Mrs. Hall said about formalities."

"Yeah, she's all about formalities." Cathy's voice had an edge to it.

"Well, listen, I really should be going. I have to do something about that portfolio."

"Don't you have one? I mean everyone in GT has a portfolio, right?"

"It's nothing like that, it's just packed away. I'm not exactly sure where."

"Oh, well it was nice to meet you—I mean I'm glad you're here."

"Me too."

I'd left Cathy at the front door, so it took me a second to locate the student lot around the corner. As I walked down the sidewalk toward the parking lot, the word formal kept repeating in my head. A formal, I was trying on a formal gown and I hated it. It must have been homecoming or prom. There was a woman with me, although I didn't have a clear image of her. It must have been her dress and she was trying to pin it so it would fit me. The dress was a hideous shade of pink coral with a plunging neckline that just wouldn't work with my slender figure; but the woman was so—insistent. I looked up as I started to step off the curb and jerked to a stop. There was a group of boys, more precisely Derrick's crew, hovering around my car.

"Oh!" A woman yelped as she ran into me sending the folder in her hands tumbling into the street. She looked a bit dazed—as well she should have. Running into me would be like running into a brick wall.

"I'm sorry." I apologized, stooping down to pick up her folder.

"Are you alright?" She asked. "I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying any attention to where I was going."

"I'm fine." I held out her folder.

"Thank you," she said, taking it from me. "Are you Izzy Faulkner?"

"Yes ma'am."

"I'm Mrs. Warner, your—"

"History teacher. I'm sorry I missed class, I—"

"Ate the tuna. Yes, Mrs. Hall called me." She smiled as she seemed to evaluate me. "I'll have your book for you tomorrow. You didn't miss anything important. I know what it's like to be in a new school. Well, I'm glad I ran into you, literally I suppose. I have to run and pickup my daughter. I'll see you tomorrow."

I looked back toward my car as she headed across the median toward the teachers' lot. The boys in the parking lot, near my car, were laughing at our exchange, but it had a mean vindictive edge, not playful teasing. Were they waiting for me or just admiring my car? I considered my options. I could go back in the school, but that would just delay the inevitable. I could confront them, but that would undoubtedly ruin everything, or, or what? I stepped off the curb and the boy I'd faced off with outside the cafeteria—Derrick—curled his finger, beckoning me toward them. The perceived threat had already compromised my restraint and I started forward. In the lot behind my car, Tink stepped out from a hedge of forsythia. I slowed.

"What's the matter," Derrick taunted, "afraid to take your medicine?"

My pace quickened again. I was already on the balls of my feet, hunched forward, stalking—attack mode. In the distance, Tink was vigorously shaking his head. It was getting close—losing total control. The urge to pounce pulsed through me. Suddenly the shrill blast of a whistle from the football field pierced the air. My last shred of control stopped me mid-stride.

"You guys plan on practicing today?" A familiar voice called. It was Coach Singleton.

The boys groaned and slowly slinked off toward the field.

"TODAY!" Coach ordered.

The boys double-timed it across the lot. When I turned back, Tink was standing next to my car.

"New friends?" He joked.

"You won't say anything to Elizabeth will you?"

"About what? I was just afraid they were gonna drool all over the paint. Can't have 'em ruinin' the paint, can we?"

"Thanks. Want a lift?"

"Sure." Tink climbed in the passenger's seat as I slipped in behind the wheel. "Why don't you swing by the field on the way out."

"You think that's wise?" I started the engine and pulled out, my effort with the clutch only causing a couple of jerks.

"Not bad, I knew you'd catch on."

As I drove past the practice field, Tink pointed at the boys, a kind of guy warning, I hoped it would help more than hurt. The boys did look surprised, like where did he come from. Once we were past the field, Tink leaned back in the seat and looked me up and down. "Well, you're not covered in blood; that's good."

"Very funny."

"Gotta hand it to ya missy, you showed a lot of restraint today. You should feel mighty proud. Yes ma'am, mighty proud indeed."

"You won't tell then?"

"What's to tell? Na, as I recall it, you managed quite well—know I couldn't have done it." Tink scratched at his arm vigorously.

"You painted yourself?" I pondered.

"Didn't see how I was going to keep an eye on you in broad daylight if I didn't. I gotta say though, this stuff is really annoying. Don't know how you manage it."

"I know what you mean. This is the longest I've worn it. Can't wait to get home and scrub it off."

"Ya got homework?"

"Not really, but I need a portfolio for tomorrow."

"Portfolio?"

"Yeah, art stuff."

"Like Benjamin's? Bet he'd lend you some of his paintings."

"No, nothing as elaborate as that." I thought for a moment. "Guess I'll have to run out to the store for some supplies, but I can't stand this paint a minute longer, so it'll have to wait until tonight."

"That's what I'm talking about. Doin' stuff after dark is the only way to go."

"You don't have to come. If I can handle school, the store should be a breeze. Can I ask you something?"

Tink nodded.

How to word this, "Well, about the car—"

"Too much for you?"

"No! Not at all, but you know that stuff you told me back in the garage this morning?"

"Yeah."

"Could you repeat it?"

He chuckled, that belly laugh of his that made you just want to cuddle him like a big overgrown teddy bear. "Someone to impress?"

"Nothing like that, the girls asked—"

"The girls!" He choked.

"Oh all right! The boys at school said it was a waste for someone like me—presumably they meant female—to be driving such a cherry car. I thought I might dazzle them a little. You know, put them in their place."

He nodded and pulled the piece of straw he'd been chewing out of his mouth like what he was about to say required some kind of reverence. "It's a three-eighty-three stroker, forged internals, aluminum heads, fuel injected, makes about four hundred and fifty horsepower." He smiled and stuck the piece of straw back in his mouth. "That about cover it?"

"Yeah, that should do just fine."

He thought for a moment. "Ya know, the _girls_ might take it as a challenge. No racing, understand. You don't have enough seat time."

"Ya think!"

Tink sat silently, grinning from ear-to-ear the rest of the ride home.

I went straight to the upstairs bathroom when we got home. Surprisingly, Elizabeth and Benjamin were nowhere to be seen. They would have heard us coming miles away, but perhaps they were giving me some space. The paint was extremely difficult to remove. It seemed in my effort to make certain it wouldn't rub off, I'd made it a little bit too waterproof—still, better safe than sorry, there was a lot at stake. With the paint finally gone, I reapplied the black lipstick for my trip into town. Outside the window, the sun was setting.

Elizabeth and Benjamin were hovering in the living room when I got downstairs. I'd expected some sort of interrogation, but they waited for me to speak first. Elizabeth was extremely edgy which, if I was right, seemed logical since she held all the cards when it came to what I was allowed, and not allowed to do. Maybe I could put this off.

"Um, I need to go into town for some school supplies. You know, a book bag, art supplies, stuff like that," I announced.

Benjamin glanced at Elizabeth before responding. "I believe there are some knapsacks in the closet upstairs."

"Yeah," I droned, "about that, see, a book bag kind of says something about you. Some of the girls have nice designer bags, the athletes, sports bags, you know volleyball, cheerleading, field hockey, like that."

Benjamin chuckled. "What sort of book bag suits an Emo vampire?"

"Don't tease the girl, darling." Elizabeth replied, and then turned toward me. "Do you need money?"

"I'm good."

Elizabeth and Benjamin exchanged a puzzled glance.

"I'm good in this case means, I have enough cash." I explained.

They smiled at each other and then Elizabeth spoke. "Well, you run along. We'll look forward to hearing about your day upon your return." Without waiting for my response, they moved with vampire speed up the stairs and out of sight.

It was twilight when I stepped out onto the front porch, my favorite time of day, not sunny, but not dark either. Tink was waiting, but I convinced him that I didn't need a chaperone. I recited what Tink said about the engine as I backed out of the garage and headed toward town. Just in case I ran into the boys.

The store was a zoo. Everyone and their mother was there buying out the remaining school supplies. By the time I found the aisle with the book bags, there wasn't much left, just mostly kids stuff. I decided to pass on the Beauty and the Beast one. I could always use one of the knapsacks from the closet until they restocked; or if they were hideous, I could go without. It wasn't like the books were heavy for me. The book bag was more about fitting in. I picked up the art supplies I needed and was almost to the front of the store, when I spotted Cathy. There was no mistaking her, but she looked different, lost, like when we first met outside the school office.

"Hey," I said, walking up beside her, "fancy meeting you here."

"I'm not here to meet you," she replied in a distant tone.

"Okay," I replied, "it's just an expression, right?"

She didn't answer, just a quick glance.

"You okay? Is something wrong?" I'd over-heard the girls in Latin mention Cathy's delusional ramblings.

"You're wrong, that's what's wrong."

"Me?"

"You're not one of us, are you?" she said in an ominous tone.

I glanced down at the pale, white skin of the back of my hands, but there was no prismatic refraction of light. How could she know? "It's not what you think."

"Don't pretend. I saw your car."

"My car?" I replied, the relief making it almost a gasp.

"You think it's funny?"

"No, nothing like that, the car was my brother's idea. It was either that or the bus and the bus is just so—"

"Yes, I ride in with my mom—all that humanity." She scrunched up her face and shuddered. "What's with all the art supplies?"

"I came in for a book bag, but the good ones were gone—these were on sale."

"Around here you pretty much have to mail order or ebay."

"I'll have to remember that." It was strange how one minute Cathy could look so lost and confused and then the next, carry on a completely rational discussion not to mention adversarial and then, well not.

"You're so pale, new makeup—"

"I think it's the florescent lights," I covered.

"It's almost ghostly. I wish I could get mine to do that. Chores take me outside too much and you know what the sun does to your skin."

I held back a smile—time to change the subject. "You just get here?"

"No, I was getting ready to call my mom to come pick me up."

"I could give you a ride."

"In your car? It's so, so out there. So not Emo."

"It is black—well metallic, sapphire to be exact."

"I'd have to get permission."

"That's fine."

"Wait here." She walked quickly out front, pulling out her cell phone before disappearing around the corner.

I stepped away from the exit, near the grocery carts, to wait. The store had an odd smell, one that I thought had prepared me for the close confines of school, but it hadn't done as much good as I'd hoped. A bus pulled up when Cathy appeared outside the entry doors, but she didn't come in. She had that deer in the headlights look again. She was blocking the door, and after one man squeezed past her the crowd from the bus swept her inside. She staggered away from the annoyed people toward me. It was immediately apparent that she was scared.

"Your mother say no?" I asked. "It's okay, I understand."

"She said yes."

"And the problem is?"

"We can't go," she said in a hollow voice.

"Sure we can."

"Derrick and his crew are around your car."

**Chapter 4**

Cathy's fear, and warning made me mad. I raced out the front door to see for myself.

"You can't!" Cathy shouted as she ran through the exit behind me.

I took a breath of the humid, night air. "Can't?"

"Fight them."

"But you said if I stood my ground they'd leave me alone."

Cathy's face turned red and she started to cry. Her blood, so close to the surface combined with her copious tears was too much. I pushed back toward the bushes along the front of the building.

Cathy followed. "That's good," she sniffled, "we'll hide until they leave."

"But you said—"

"It's not that easy," she said, her head drooping, shaking from side-to-side. "It's not that easy at all."

"They're just boys, it's not like they're going to hurt us."

Cathy looked up, her cheeks streaked with mascara. "You're wrong, the world is theirs. People like us just exist in the shadows." She was almost back in that zombie-like state she'd been in when I first spotted her inside the store.

"Okay, we don't have to fight them—I wasn't going to anyway. I'm just a girl, right? We can just leave, you know get in the car and drive away."

"You really think so?"

"It's my car, right? What can they do? Come on, we can do this." I led Cathy out from behind the bushes. Two boys I recognized from school gave us a strange look as they veered sharply away, leaving a wide berth. Despite the initial surge of anger, I'd calmed down considerably. I was right, they were just high school boys. I could handle them as long as I kept my anger in check.

Cathy and I walked slowly down the sidewalk and as we started across the parking lot, the flashing yellow lights of a mall security vehicle turned down the far end of the row where my car was parked. The car matched our pace arriving at the group of boys the same time we did. Cathy was cowering behind me. The white security Jeep stopped directly in front of my car.

"Evenin' kids," a deep voice grumbled from inside the jeep.

"Hey, Mr. Castle," Derrick replied, "you doin' chains again this year?"

"Yep, I like the action up close." He glanced toward Cathy and me. "Girls," he said through half a cough, like he wasn't convinced. He looked back toward the boys. "That yours?" he said to Derrick, nodding toward my car.

"You kidin'?" Derrick gawked. "New girl claims its hers. I figure it's stolen or somethin'."

"Well, easy enough to check." Mr. Castle called on his radio and repeated my tag number into the microphone. While he was waiting for a response, Derrick and his crew got this cocky, gotcha smile on their faces. "Yep, I'm still here. OK, so it's registered to an Izzy Faulkner with two z's. Got it... Yeah, see you on the sidelines." Mr. Castle looked straight at me. "I'm guessin' you're Izzy Faulkner with two z's?"

"Yes, sir."

He nodded approvingly. "Nice car." Then turned to the boys. "You all behave yourselves." He dropped the Jeep into gear and continued slowly down the aisle.

During the course of the conversation, the boys had moved away from my car toward the security Jeep. I motioned for Cathy to go around to the passenger's side and we both slipped in unnoticed. The boys jerked around when they heard the doors close.

"Where ya think you're going?" Derrick crooned as the boys filed down either side of my car.

Cathy was trembling.

"Don't be afraid," I whispered, "we'll be fine."

She nodded without speaking. When I turned away from her, Derrick was staring down at me, arms folded across his chest.

"So, here we are. I'm Izzy and you already know Cathy, right?" The casual introduction seemed to humor him.

"That there is Andy," he said, pointing to the redhead on Cathy's side of the car—I recognized him from Art. "That's Joe, and this here is my main man, Matt," the huge, almost mountainous boy standing next to him.

"And you're Derrick. You do everything with the boys?" I cooed, batting my eyes wildly at him.

He shook off a fake shiver. "You nuts? Where'd you get this?" he said motioning toward my car.

"It was a present from my older brother, if you must know."

The boys groaned.

"What a waste," Derrick said, shaking his head.

"And why's that?"

"It's a waste to put a freak like you in such a cherry ride." He smirked and leaned back against the car behind him.

"Oh really." I turned the key and the engine rumbled to life. It had a lope like racehorses trotting, waiting—no, begging to be let loose. I turned toward Cathy. "Buckle up." I grinned a devilish grin and gunned the engine a few times.

"Ooooooooh," Derrick mocked. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on my windowsill, putting his face just inches from mine. "You have no idea—"

The best part about this was I hadn't had to wait until the next school day—I let him have it. "Three-eighty-three stroker, forged internals, aluminum heads, fuel injected, makes about four hundred and fifty horsepower." The color drained from his face until it was nearly as white as mine.

I turned the wheel slightly, mashed the throttle and dumped the clutch. The rear tires broke loose in a high-pitched squeal. Smoke billowed out of the wheel-wells as the car pirouetted right out from under Derrick's shocked face. He stumbled forward as Andy and Joe jumped back, and as the nose of the car aligned with the aisle, I lifted my foot slightly so the tires could catch and we shot forward. At the end of the row of parked cars, I spun it around and headed back. I turned to Cathy, plastered back in her seat. "Your turn."

"See ya boys!" she screamed, frantically waving out the window as we raced past.

I yanked it into second, and as soon as we were around the corner of the building, let off the gas. The engine popped and groaned as we decelerated. "Well?" I said looking over at Cathy.

"Oh my God!" She pushed herself up in her seat. "That was amazing."

"Which way?" I asked figuring we'd better beat it in case the boys decided to follow.

"Down to the second light and turn right."

I veered around a pickup backing out of a parking spot and headed for the exit. And just like that, Cathy and I were friends. The whole ride to her house, she couldn't stop talking about how amazing it was as if she'd never had any fun. She directed me to a small historic house where she hopped out.

"See you at school," she shouted, running up the walk to the door.

"See you!" I shouted back.

The door opened and I saw a familiar face usher her inside. It was Mrs. Hall from the front office. She must be Cathy's mother.

As I turned off Main Street onto Route 67 and headed toward home, an erratic flash of light in the rearview mirror caught my attention. Although I didn't have a lot of seat time—as Tink had pointed out—I did have my keen senses and could easily drive and concentrate on the rearview mirror at the same time. A ricer squealed around the corner behind me as a second one shot through the intersection going east. The boys? It wasn't really a big deal, but before I turned my attention forward again, the one that turned came screaming up behind me, so close I couldn't see the headlights. I could make out two occupants, but couldn't tell who they were. It seemed odd they didn't just pass me. We were the only two cars on the road and the centerline was broken to allow passing. My turn was just up ahead, so it didn't really much matter anyway.

To my chagrin, the ricer followed my left onto Reno Monument Road. A cell phone lit up and I could clearly make out Derrick's face as he held it up to his ear. Then I remembered the other car, was it going around to the other end, to box me in? That was ridiculous. They had no way of knowing where I would turn. Still, I didn't want to lead the car behind me home. Privacy from humans was imperative. There were only a few more roads before Reno crested the mountains and went into another county. If I got too close, it wouldn't be difficult for them to figure out where I lived. A left on Moser Road seemed like the only choice—Roy's Lane was out since it was a dead end. I slowed, choosing not to use my turn signal, and abruptly swerved up the hill on Moser. Derrick swerved erratically, his car bottoming out on the gravel shoulder in a shower of sparks, but he made the turn.

At the top of the hill, I realized I was heading back toward Old National Pike, the road the other car had taken through the intersection—probably not good, but the idea they were corralling me seemed totally ridiculous. The narrow road dipped sharply to the left and as I entered the second half of the S turn, my headlights lit up the side of the other ricer as it skidded sideways to block the road.

I locked up the brakes and felt an immediate jolt as Derrick smashed into the back of my car. I turned into the skid, but slid off the road, down a washed out ravine through the tangled underbrush. I wasn't scared—it wasn't like I was going to get hurt—but I was sorry for what it was doing to Tink's masterpiece. I came to an abrupt stop as the rear wheels fell into a ditch, the dislodged headlights shining haphazardly through the underbrush. I killed the engine and shut off the lights. Everything was quiet.

The road was about a hundred yards up the embankment, and through the glow of headlights, I could see the silhouette of four boys—Derrick and his crew—they were laughing.

"Jeez Derrick," Matt said, "you didn't say we were going to run her off the road."

"Andy's the idiot who spun out."

"Hey, don't blame me," Andy replied, "you told me to—"

"Not bad for a rookie," Derrick complimented, "of course, I would have done it better."

"Maybe we should make sure she's okay," Matt interrupted.

"Right," Derrick replied, "make sure she's okay."

"We gonna mess with her?" Andy asked, sounding hopeful.

"We didn't come all the way out here for nothin'."

The yellow beam from Matt's flashlight scanned over the underbrush. "Hey guys."

"Come all the way out here." Andy laughed and the boys started pushing each other, except for Matt staring down the beam from the flashlight.

"Guys."

"What, Matt?" Derrick said, sounding totally annoyed.

"It's all poison ivy."

"You kidin' me." Derrick yanked the flashlight away from Matt and scanned over the underbrush again. "Freakin' great! You sure?"

"Yeah, three shiny leaves." A roll of thunder echoed through the mountains.

"Well, she ain't worth poison ivy, that's for sure. Besides, sounds like a storm's headed this way." Derrick tossed the flashlight back to Matt. "Some other time, freak!" he yelled before walking back toward his car.

I pressed the door against the tangled vines and slid out of the car. There was another car approaching from the north.

"Yeah freak, some other time," Andy mimicked.

I probably should have been angry, maybe fighting back the urge to attack, because they apparently had intended to hurt me, but I was totally confused. Was this why Cathy was afraid of them?

"Someone's coming!" The boy who had been introduced as Joe yelled as a pair of headlights swept across the trees above me.

"Way to go idiot," Derrick complained, "can't you ever do anything right?"

"I—"

"Shut it."

The gravel scratched under the aggressive tread of off-road tires as the piercing blast of a shrill horn cut through the heavy night air. The dark silhouette of a Jeep stopped inches from careening down into the ravine—my ravine.

"What the hell!" Derrick yelled. "You tryin' to kill someone, idiot?"

"Are you guys crazy?" A distinctively male, yet smooth voice, shouted back. Even angry, his voice sounded different than the local boys—not an accent exactly—just different.

"Well, if it ain't Hollywood," Derrick said. "You followin' us?"

"Following?" The new arrival chuckled. "No, just out for a drive, kind of learning my way around."

"Ain't learned much."

"What are you guys doing out here?"

It appeared, in a flicker of lightning, that Derrick's crew had formed behind him.

"We ain't doin' nothin'," Andy replied. He groaned as Derrick punched him in the arm.

"So, you all are just hanging out in the middle of the road on the blindside of a turn." The boy Derrick called Hollywood observed.

"We're outta here," Derrick replied.

"See you at practice."

"From the bench, loser," Derrick joked and the boys burst out laughing. "Ain't like we need no second quarterback." Car doors slammed followed by revving engines that clouded the lit area in an oily, blue fog. The two ricers sped away.

Hollywood stood on the edge of the road, silhouetted by his Jeep's headlights, and waved his fists at the fleeing cars. "You guys are idiots!" He dropped his arms in exasperation and mumbled, "God, I hate this place." As he turned to go back to his car, he noticed the cut my car had made through the vegetation. He stood at the edge of the ravine, staring down into the darkness and our eyes met—only I knew he couldn't see me.

I gulped, a completely pointless human reaction that I couldn't explain. His dark, chocolate eyes were intense, concerned and absolutely beautiful. Suddenly the intoxicating scent that possessed me at school drifted down from the street—it was his.

"Is anyone there?" He strained to see into the darkness. "Hello? I can see your car. Are you hurt?"

I glanced down, not realizing my hands were trembling, as a knot tightened in the pit of my stomach. The burn in the back of my throat overwhelmed me so quickly that I moved toward him out of instinct. A stick snapped under my foot.

"Hello?"

Another roll of thunder triggered a sudden downpour. I took two more steps before the cleansing rain allowed me to regain some semblance of control. I froze in a clear spot between my car and the road.

"Is anyone there?" He called over the deluge, "Are you hurt?" He waited for an answer, but I didn't reply. "My cell is dead, but I'm going for help. Just stay put. I'll be back."

A flash of lightning lit the sky, his face, and presumably mine.

"Don't move," he called having apparently seen me.

It took me a second to realize he was coming straight down the ravine. There was no question what I would do if he reached me—absolutely none.

"Stay there."

I fought off what could only be describe as primal instinct, turned and ran into the underbrush as a bolt of lightning struck a tree less than half a mile away. I stopped on the far side of the ravine, hidden behind a large oak. He continued to probe around in the brush, looking for me, but finally climbed back up to the road. I thought he was going to leave, but he came back to the edge of the road with a flashlight and scanned the area.

"Okay, so you're probably terrified. I can't say I blame you. I'm going for help—an ambulance—the police. You'll be okay, just stay put."

He disappeared above the lip of the road. Headlights swept across the trees and he drove off in the direction he'd arrived.

If I couldn't control myself around this boy in the open, how was I ever going to manage at school? At least I could be sure he wasn't in any of my classes. That left only lunch and I could always wait that out in the bathroom. First things first though, I needed to get my car out of the ravine before he came back.

I loathed everything about being a vampire, but used my strength to push the car out of the tangled underbrush, across the ditch, into the clearing. I thought I might drive from there, but the wet grass was too slick, so I pushed it down the hill to the road. From there, it was a short drive home.

The house was dark, as usual, when I crested the steep driveway. I still hadn't figured out what I was going to tell Tink about the car and it wasn't until this very moment that I remembered Elizabeth and Benjamin would be waiting for a report on my day. I wasn't too worried about Benjamin—Elizabeth was another story. I turned into the garage and killed the engine.

"Evenin'," Tink said, emerging from the shadows, "kind of late for a school night."

"Very funny." So far he hadn't noticed the car—I was going to have to play this by ear.

He leaned to the side as he walked toward me, obviously noticing the damage. "So, you find everything you were looking for?"

"Nah, they were out of book bags." I opened the door and got out of the car, standing in front of the scratches on the door.

"Well, I'm sure Benjamin has something you can use." He continued to survey the damage discretely. It was beginning to look like he was going to let me off the hook—if it was only that easy.

"About the car," I confessed.

"It givin' you problems?"

"Stop it Tink, you see what I did. I'm so sorry. I'm such an idiot. You told me to be careful, but did I listen—no, of course not, then the boys—"

"Boys?" he interrupted.

Oops. What is it they say about loose lips sinking ships? I'd let my mouth get ahead of my brain.

"I thought we were clear about the racing." His tone was scolding, like a parent and that made me angry.

"I wasn't racing! The boys ran me off the road." Crap, I did it again.

"You hurt?"

"Stop teasing. I love the car, and it wasn't my fault. I turned into the skid just like you taught me, but when the one hit me from the rear there was nothing I could do." Way too much information, I usually had better control than that, maybe it was the accident, or was it Hollywood?

"It's not a big deal, you're just a girl."

"Just a girl!" Are you kidding me?" I lunged at him, and we collided like too pieces of granite, falling back into his tool boxes with a crash. The drawers flew open showering the floor with sockets and wrenches like metal rain. I dug my nails into his shoulders as he pressed back against my throat. I let out a loud, guttural roar.

"Izzy! Izzy! Take it easy," he begged, "I was just playing around."

I buried my knee in his groin. He gasped, and we toppled over one of the tool boxes, flattening it against the floor. Being a relatively new vampire, I unnecessarily grabbed the first wrench my hand fell on and slammed it into Tink's temple—the wrench folded over the back of my hand. I shook it off, but he caught my next bare handed blow.

"Come on Izzy, I don't want to fight," he pleaded.

We released simultaneously and I rolled off his chest.

Tink sat up first. "You still got a pretty good right hook."

I glared at him, still fighting to contain my anger.

"For a girl," he added, "I tell you what: I think you've lost some of that youthful strength. I bet I could take you."

"Not now Tink." I sat up and spotted Benjamin and Elizabeth standing just outside the garage. Their faces were drawn, concerned—how long had they been there? Did they hear what I said about the boys running me off the road? "Sorry about that," I whispered to Tink.

"No problem." We both stood and brushed off.

I gave Tink an apologetic glance, then stared at Elizabeth. "I need to hunt."

**Chapter 5**

I glanced in the mirror at my honey-golden eyes and then checked to make sure I'd completely covered my exposed skin before heading out. The house was mysteriously quiet. It seemed odd they would leave me alone, especially since Elizabeth had never gotten the opportunity to grill me about school. Ever since I could remember, she constantly hovered over me like a warden. Why now, when so much was at stake, would she back off? It made no sense—I was skeptical, but grateful.

My evening hunt had taken longer than I wanted, but giving myself over to the primitive side had definitely relieved the tension. It meant I hadn't done as much art as I'd hoped, but I managed to complete a few decent charcoal renderings before the sky lightened. I could hear Tink, still in the garage working on his truck I imagined, as I strolled across the dew soaked lawn toward the garage. Would it be selfish to ask him to use his truck? My car would likely attract all sorts of unwanted attention at school, and I just didn't want to have to deal with that—my 'dealing with' plate was pretty much maxed out.

"Oh my God." I abruptly stopped at the open garage door.

"There you are," Tink said, appearing from under the hood of his truck with a huge grin.

"How—what—I mean, it was—I don't understand how you—"

Tink walked over to my car and ran a clean, white terry cloth over the fender. "The paint was new, still soft, so it was easy to repair. I still had an extra headlight bucket from the donor car and well, a little elbow grease and it's good as new." He opened the door. "Don't want to be late."

"How do I explain—I mean, what do I say to the boys?"

"Think I'd stay away from those boys and well as far as the car goes, I guess just act like nothin' ever happened."

I slid my portfolio behind the driver's seat and got in. "You're the best brother a girl could have."

"Yeah," Tink said closing the door, "don't get too lovey dovey though, I expect a rematch tonight—still think I can take you." He winked.

"Will you be close by again today?"

"Few more things to do around here, but I should be there before lunch, that okay?"

"Yeah, lunch, no problem."

He stepped back as I started the engine and pulled out of the garage. The whole way to school I was worried about Derrick and his crew. As luck would have it, I was running a few minutes late, so by the time I pulled into the parking lot, everyone had gone inside. Just the same, I parked on the opposite side of the parking lot from the ricers. Unfortunately, Derrick and the others were standing outside the front of the school. Their jaws dropped as I strolled across the parking lot, met Cathy at the door, and went inside. We were standing across from the office before I ventured a cautious breath.

"You okay?" Cathy asked.

"Sure, why?"

"I don't know, I had this feeling—you sure?"

"Yeah." I glanced in the front office. "Hey, where's your mom?"

"She had to go back home after she dropped me off."

"Why?"

"Our house got egged last night."

"Do you know who did it?"

"Probably Derrick and his crew, that's why I was worried about you. I thought I saw them follow you after you dropped me off."

"No, I don't think so." The lie came easy. No need to worry Cathy.

"Well, that's good. I see you found it." She read my puzzled expression. "Your portfolio."

"Yeah, it's not much, just a couple of pieces." I cringed as the first bell rang.

"I'll see you in Art."

"Sure, see you then."

Latin was a godsend, a place where I could gradually reacquaint myself with humanity. Except for my brief conversation with Cathy, I hadn't taken a breath since entering the school. By the time Latin was over, I was breathing like any normal human, albeit guarded.

Art was fine, except Andy kept making these irritating faces—bugging his eyes out and everything. Mrs. Snyder liked my portfolio, and we started on another still life. The bell rang before I knew it, and we were off to lunch. It was just like I'd hoped. The second day was easier. I did remember to stop breathing when Cathy and I walked into the cafeteria—no need to push it—and deposited our books on the small, round table just inside the door. Cathy smiled and headed for the lunch line. We were early, but by the time Cathy returned with her tray, the room was getting quite noisy and a bit overwhelming for me.

"Not eating?" Cathy asked.

"Not today," I replied using as little air as possible—I didn't want to have to take another breath. Across the room, in the far corner, I picked up on Derrick and the other boys boisterous laughter. It was odd how they'd completely ignored me, even when they walked past our table. Maybe they felt bad about what happened, or more likely, afraid I'd rat them out. And then I heard it, the name from last night.

"Well, if it ain't Hollywood. What do you think you're doing?"

"Thought I'd sit with you, and the name's Jason."

That voice again, that beautiful, melodic voice. I couldn't stop myself from taking a shallow breath—and I wasn't disappointed.

"Not so fast, _Hollywood_," Derrick continued, "'cept for on the bench, I ain't so sure I want you sittin' with me. What do ya' think fella's?"

"He should have to earn it," Joe said.

"Yeah, and he ain't gonna earn it sittin' on the bench." Derrick laughed, the others joined in like puppets.

"Oh, oh, I know," Andy piped up, "make him sit with the freaks."

"The who?" Jason asked.

"Not bad, Andy," Derrick replied, slapping a high five with Andy, "maybe a little time with the freaks will teach him a little appreciation."

"You kidding me," Jason mumbled.

"They're the ones dressed in black in case you don't know what a freakin' Emo looks like. Up to you." Derrick and the others turned their backs on him.

I ducked down behind my book as Jason looked across the room toward our table, but I heard him grumble, "Great, sit with the vampires."

I cringed even though I knew no one else could hear what he said, but the word vampire—in these surroundings—made me very self conscious. Shreds of pulp fell from my fingers as I'd unintentionally crushed the cardboard cover of the hardback book I'd been reading.

"Guess there's nothing wrong with a little initiation as long as no one gets hurt, right?"

Derrick and the other boys continued to ignore him.

"You can sit with me," Lisa, the 'makeup' girl from Advisory, said as Jason passed her table.

"Maybe some other time, excuse me."

My whole body tensed, was he really going to sit with Cathy and me? He couldn't. It was impossible. There was no way I could control myself. I glanced toward the doors and started to get up.

"You okay?" Cathy whispered. A shadow swept across our table. "Oh!"

I gasped at her surprise, erasing any chance of a positive outcome. His sweet, scent burned through my lungs like the afternoon sun across the desert sand. I clenched, pulverizing the remains of my book as the fire zeroed in at the back of my throat. I'd experienced thirst, but nothing like this. This was unrelenting. Even so, that wasn't what disturbed me the most. Deep in my gut there was a strange sensation like a tightening knot. The intensity almost doubled me over. Alone, each sensation was too much. Together, they were insane. He was beyond description, beyond belief, beyond my control.

"Hope that's not a library book," Jason said from behind me.

"Are you okay?" Cathy whispered again. When our eyes met, her face went white. I could only imagine what mine looked like. When she glanced down at my book, I quickly shoved the remnants into my book bag.

His shadow moved from behind me. "I'm new. Name's Jason. Seems this is the newbies table. Mind if I join you?"

His succulent breath was like nothing I'd ever experienced. It was completely overpowering. I slowly looked up into his beautiful, tanned face that pleaded for me to say yes, a face that brightened with recognition when our eyes met.

"It's you. I knew you weren't my imagination," he said so softly only I could hear.

I slowly slid off my stool, not wanting to make any sudden movement that might trigger my instincts. His eyes were locked on mine, and I didn't have the strength to look away, which meant only one thing—I was on autopilot without the experience to control it. His pupils began to dilate as my hypnotic influence captured him. I tilted my head to the side, and his obediently followed. His heartbeat, blood surging through bulging veins, was all I could hear. My lips pealed back in a seductive smile, exposing my teeth. When there was no doubt what was about to happen—and at that instant it was all I wanted—the knot deep in my gut wrenched me back. I broke the stare and glanced toward the door.

"No, not again." Jason stepped between me and the door. The room, beyond my bubble of awareness, had fallen silent. He quickly glanced around, probably wishing he'd said yes to Lisa. "Listen, I know you probably wish I hadn't bothered you, but I really don't have a lot of options here. Can't you help me out?"

Out was the answer. I needed to get as far away from him as I could. I cautiously stepped to the side.

"Wait, don't go." He slid his tray onto our table without looking away from me.

"I'm sorry," I groaned, but it came out more like a low, guttural growl. Normal human pace, I reminded myself, normal human pace. As the wonder in his face melted, I bolted for the door.

The door slammed closed behind me triggering an eruption of laughter, Derrick's above the rest. I folded my hands across my abdomen and pressed against the tightness. "What is that?" I panted falling back against the wall next to the door.

From inside the cafeteria, footsteps raced toward me and the door suddenly flew open. In vampire speed, I saw Jason's hand on the door and was gone—out the side entrance—before the door hit the wall.

I passed my car and cleared the parking lot. Even as the school disappeared behind me, I knew the slightest hesitation could cause me to turn around. I plunged into the trees that hung over a one hundred year old stone fence line following it away from Boonsboro toward the mountains. Up ahead, where the fence formed a corner, a lone buck was grazing. I closed on him with incredible speed. His muscles were still placid when I tore into his flesh. We crashed through the stone, wall, and I gorged myself on his blood hoping it would give me pause. It did little to quell the fire, but momentarily distracted me from the urge to go back for Jason. I began to pace in rigid, erratic motions, finally collapsing against the stone, wall and sliding to the ground.

That's it. It's finished, I'll never get my revenge. I slammed my fist into the ground, pulverizing a boulder. "You lucky bastard, I'll never find you!" The frustration further distracted me from the incident with Jason.

The thin veil of glowing fog that clung to the moist vegetation around me slowly burned away with the afternoon sun. The warmth on my face calmed me, and as I began to regain control, I realized my hands had been drawn to my abdomen. Just thinking Jason's name brought back the tightness. What is that?

I'd always thought Elizabeth's objection to school—besides the obvious—was the fear that I might remember my past, and for some unknown reason, that was forbidden. I knew I wasn't originally part of this coven—they were all from the civil war era, the south—but the Faulkners were all I knew. There were things said, things not said, and quick, discrete glances between them that made me think they were all sworn to secrecy. There was a time I thought I might have been created for Tink—and they let me believe that, almost encouraged it—but I came to believe it was more of an afterthought. Tink would never kill, especially for such a selfish reason—isn't that what I'd almost done, kill? The thought stabbed like a knife. I'd sworn never to kill—and I hadn't—yet with Jason I almost gave myself over to the monster.  
"I can't go back to school," I mumbled with crushing finality. My entire miserable existence had been geared toward finding the vampire who changed me—to destroy him—and then myself. School was my last chance, my last hope and if school was no longer an option, what now? Did it matter?

"Jason," I growled, "this is your fault."

The intensity of my anger erased the façade of control and I sprang to my feet, quickly picking up the scent of another deer—the pursuit was short, but draining the yearling did nothing to help. How could it? I was trying to erase the thirst for human blood with an animal's.

Except for a glimmer of High School, my first memory was the transformation from human to vampire. There were those who described the burning as acid pulsing through your veins, or a fire that moved from your extremities inward until it consumed your heart. Whatever the analogy, it was the ultimate agony, an unspoken bond that all vampires shared. I always suspected my transformation had been much less intense—don't misunderstand, it was agonizing, I just didn't remember the same desperation the others described. Even as a newborn, I was able to control the thirst for human blood, but the Faulkner's kept a vigilant watch just the same. It was there, just never beyond my control, until today. The name kept coming back, igniting the thirst—Jason.

I rolled off the carcass and clawed at the ground writhing in agony. The pain went beyond the parched thirst in my throat, it gnawed at my gut. I drew my knees to my chest. "Tink!" I cried, desperate for help. Suddenly I was on my feet, my head twitching frantically toward any sound. The _me_ that existed in this form was no longer in control—I belonged to the monster.

The monster moved quickly, decisively. I wasn't exactly sure where I was until I passed the stone, fence line. There was little doubt where I was headed.

"Jason!" I screamed in desperation, doubling over in a different kind of pain. I rolled, and when my feet were back under me, I had regained enough control to change direction. My pace quickened, faster than I'd ever run, speed beyond my control and my pace became erratic. Under normal circumstances, I could easily maneuver through the forest's dense underbrush, but now I crashed through low-hanging branches that quickly shred my favorite black, velour top. It wasn't long before they began to tear my jeans. The agonizing run—now almost a stagger—continued for more than an hour until I could no longer fight the raging pain. I listed to the right, smashing though a mature pine that instantly snapped and thundered to the forest floor. I rolled, tearing a rut through the underbrush until I came to an abrupt halt in a tangle of vines and roots. The convulsions were agonizing. I thrashed at the ground, the vines, and then curled into a fetal position only to begin thrashing again.

Jason! Jason! Two opposing emotions demanded satisfaction, each unyielding. The torture continued through the night, but by morning, diminished to no more than a feeble twitching. One might suspect exhaustion, but that was impossible. If ever a vampire could cry, I was crying, tearlessly crying. There was no escape. Kill him. Save him. That's all there was.

The morning breeze brought an unfamiliar scent. It was distant, maybe three miles, definitely animal, but more powerful than a deer or even the occasional bear I was accustom to hunting. I struggled to resist, afraid if I gave in, the monster would regain control, but I was on my feet, moving toward it. As the scent became stronger, my pace quickened. Up ahead the forest lightened, and lying on a sun drenched rock, a mountain lion. I was in full stride now, my full attention on the target.

The big cat turned and sprang as I dove head long, burying my teeth deep into its throat. Her claws harmlessly ripped across my back. We rolled once, then plunged off the narrow ledge where she'd been perched. We hit the rubble at the base of the cliff with a deafening crash, finally coming to rest at the edge of the forest. The cat's blood was sweeter, more powerful—I couldn't get enough. When there was no more, I rolled off of her onto my back.

"Oh my God!" someone yelled followed by a blood curdling scream.

I opened my eyes and above me, two climbers hung precariously, clinging to their ropes—we must have fallen right past them. I stopped breathing and looked to the tree tops. The wind was blowing from behind me, up the cliff. I would not get their scent.

The female screamed again, her companion quickly moving to wrap her in his arms. I remained motionless, unsure if they could see me. Then a familiar flash of recognition as I began to see the jagged mountain tops I'd drawn in Art class. What is it about these mountains? Why do they seem so familiar? Above me the climbers began to rappel. With a single sense of purpose, I darted into the woods, not stopping until I'd put five miles behind me. I collapsed in a clearing bordered on one side by a small stream.

I was gorged, having consumed more blood in the last thirty-six hours than I normally did in a week, yet the burn was still there. I crawled to the edge of the stream and pushed up on my arms. The calm water of a small eddy reflected the grotesque face of my monster. The ringlets of my hair were wild and tangled, littered with twigs and debris. My lipstick was smeared in a hideous grin, stained with the blood of recent kills. Smeared mascara surrounded my eyes that, even after three kills, were still black as pitch. Deep inside a small voice cried—Jason, and the tightness in my chest turned to a flutter, but it was quickly answered by a growl that boiled up in my throat. I flopped down on the muddy bank, letting the rippling water splash over my hands in a soothing, rhythmic distraction. I saw and felt nothing else—there was just the gurgling water.

Night came. The green canopy lightened with another day, then slowly darkened to night again—I hadn't moved, maybe this was my eternity, trapped between monster and humanity.

The dawn of the third day in my self-inflicted exile came with a new, disturbing scent—there were two of them, vampires. I remained motionless unwilling to test my control, but the distraction had already taken me away from the water's serenity. In the distance, I could hear them closing. They were definitely headed toward me, but at a cautious pace. Were they hunting? Did they think I was an injured backpacker—easy prey? Their scent—one male, one female—was almost familiar, but I couldn't place it. The image of the mountains, my mountains, popped into my head. I focused all my attention on the bubbling water and the image—the vampires were on the edge of the clearing now.

"Izzy?" The voice was feminine, soft, strained, I knew this voice. She took a step forward.

"Be careful," the male warned.

"Izzy?" she repeated.

Suddenly I was in a different place. My head spun in a flurry of unfamiliar images that flew past too quickly for me to retain. I was wet, in excruciating pain, human pain. Massive dark trees laden with thick, green moss bordered a dark creek. Beneath a crumbled hulk of twisted metal, an unnatural, incandescent glow lit the pebbled bottom, strewn with shards of glass. At the edge of the light, a vein of fresh blood wove its way through the rocks and glass, only to vanish in the swift current.

"Jess?" A pained yet sweet voice gasped in disbelief from somewhere in the darkness. Slowly, the faint outline of the most beautiful face I'd ever seen appeared from between two trees. "It is you," she whispered in anguish.

A cough gurgled from behind me and the vein of blood grew broader. "Save her—for me." The voice was weak, desperate, but somehow familiar.

Agony distorted the angel's eyes as she started to back away.

"Please, I know you can—" a choked gasp stole her voice, "Izzy's all I have." An arm reached toward her but splashed lifelessly into the water.

"Izzy?" The angelic face moved closer.

"Izzy?" Someone's hand gently touched my shoulder.

The image vanished with a jolt. I clutched a rock on the bank of the creek and launched myself through the water, sliding up the far bank to the base of a fallen tree. The two vampires stepped back as I turned to face them, cowering in the muck. I was confused, somewhere between the dream and the two intruders.

"Jess?" I mumbled.

They exchanged a worried glance. The male had a firm grip on the female's shoulder, but she knelt down and cautiously extended her hand toward me. "Izzy, it's me."

I recoiled back against the fallen tree, grasping at the fleeting dream, but it was too late. "Melanie? Nathan?" I puzzled, staring up into their faces.

"Yes," Melanie replied, relief obvious in her voice.

Nathan started to step between us, a defensive posture, but she put her arm out to stop him. His muscles tensed in opposition, but he conceded.

"It's been months, what are you doing way out here?"

"I think something happened."

"You think?" Nathan questioned.

"How long—I mean what day is it?"

"I'm not sure," Melanie said, "we don't really keep track."

"Yeah, sure, right, I remember." I tried to recall what happened, why I was here, but my mind was mush. "The others, are they alright?"

"Yes, everyone's fine. We've been helping them look for you. Elizabeth's been worried sick, and Tink, he's been saying it's all his fault."

"Then they know?"

Nathan's fingers tightened on Melanie's shoulder.

Melanie avoided the question with one of her own. "Are you alright?"

"I'm not sure." I slowly got up and stepped across the creek and then knelt down in front of her. "I've missed you, both of you." I glanced up at Nathan.

Melanie and Nathan were part of Benjamin and Elizabeth's family, my family, but chose to spend most of their time alone—well just the two of them. They were the most recent to bond. The companionship of familiar faces helped push my demon further from my thoughts. I felt cautiously in control again, and then I realized what I must look like.

"Our cabin is just over the next ridge," Melanie said, "I'm sure I have something you can wear." She pointed to her left. "There's a deep pool about half a mile up stream, you can bathe there." She paused, then added, "Do you want me to stay with you?"

I got up slowly, still aware of Nathan's uneasiness. "No, that's not necessary."

Melanie stood and Nathan slipped his arm around her waist. "We'll see you at the cabin then, we can catch up."

"I'd like that."

They retreated a few steps before turning and disappearing into the woods. I mentally marked their direction although I could have just as easily followed their scent. It was still early and the sun was shining through the edge of the forest, lighting the underside of the canopy in a soft, green glow that would have calmed the wildest beast. I followed the stream, effortlessly weaving and dodging around the fallen trees that lined the bank. Around the bend, I could hear the splash of a small waterfall. I pushed through a thicket and stepped into the most tranquil place I'd ever been.

In front of me, a sheer, rock face, covered in fine, velvet moss framed a trickle of water that seeped down through a crevice. About ten feet from the stream the water pooled in a rock out-cropping that spilled over into the deep pool below. On the far bank, waves gently licked the wet, pastel stones. Directly in front of me, a narrow, sandy beach added an inviting entrance. The entire pool was framed with lush ferns. I stepped into the soft sand and stared down into the quiet water. The monster stared back from my reflection, but it was only on the outside now. I didn't hesitate, slipped off my shredded clothes and sank down into the cool water. The water had a soothing, floral aroma that I couldn't quite identify, but it didn't matter. With one stroke, I was under the waterfall. I tilted my head back, letting the force of the water rinse away the blood and makeup. I lifted my head and the cool water ran though my hair. A breeze disturbed the canopy and a beam of sunlight found its way through to glisten off my skin in sparkling facets of color. I was finally at peace. I could think rationally for the first time in three days and the first thing I thought of was Jason. For a moment, I almost expected an adverse reaction, but here—in this place I was completely under control. Maybe there was still hope.

My clothes were hopelessly beyond repair, but I rinsed out what was left of my jeans and tore off the shredded legs. I tied a piece of what had been my favorite top around my breasts for Nathan's sake and used another small strip to tie my hair back in a ponytail. I was quite a sight, my white, marble skin wrapped in rags. I took a moment to savor the tranquility that now controlled me—secretly hoping I could store it up, before heading toward the cabin.


End file.
